Best-Kept Secrets
by KEB94
Summary: When Dr Sarah Reese is shot while treating a patient in the ED, a secret is revealed. From there, it’s the longest and most complicated are-they-or-aren’t-they situation. The rumour mill was never so juicy.
1. One

**A/N:** _Hi everyone! So, I have decided to re-write this story more or less from the beginning. I've decided the Rheese I'm writing here needs to be more of a slow-burn, than the half-established maybe-it's-something I was aiming for ... Let's try again and see how close I get! Hope you enjoy the ride :)_

 **One**

Friday. The end of the week - one that had been the longest, hardest and most tiring that Dr Sarah Reese had ever experienced. Today was so busy, in fact, that Dr Charles had assigned her to help out down in the ED, where they'd been run off their feet and screaming for an extra set of hands all morning. Three hours after arriving in the middle of the bedlam, Sarah found herself truly grateful when Maggie forcibly removed her tablet from her hand and told her in no uncertain terms that she was going to take a short lunch break.

As she entered the doctor's lounge, she found herself walking into the middle fo a conversation between Doctors Choi and Rhodes.

"So hot date tonight, huh?" Ethan was asking Connor, who laughed.

He glanced quickly over to Sarah, then chuckled as he normally would. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he said, "Uh, yeah. Making my famous spaghetti bolognese."

Ethan picked up his stethoscope and headed back out to see patients. "Trying to impress?"

Connor raised his coffee cup as though toasting to something. "Here's hoping."

"And you, Sarah? Big plans for Friday night?" Ethan looked to her expectantly.

She shrugged. "Just a quiet night in - probably watch a movie. Nothing too exciting."

Sarah watched Ethan leave as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She wasn't game to look over at Connor for fear of giving away her disappointment. Instead, she concentrated on adding creamer into her coffee as she asked, "You've got a date?"

Damnit. The disappointment was so obvious in her voice.

He answered her very quietly, being very careful himself not to change his facial expression or his tone: "Well, it is our anniversary. I wanted to make it special."

She took a long sip of her coffee as she leaned back on the counter, her back to the glass panels. "You know, most people celebrate anniversaries when they're actually together."

He slowly moved across the room, now standing opposite her just slightly too close fo a colleague. "But it's our first wedding anniversary."

She smiled, butterflies in her stomach fluttering around as he very surreptitiously linked several of his fingers through hers. "I suppose that's something to celebrate."

He had opened his mouth to respond, but was spared continuing the conversation when the door opened, and Will Halstead walked into the room. Connor stepped back very quickly, his professional persona once again back in place.

"Hey, Connor - can I grab you for a consult? I have an otherwise healthy twenty-four year old guy who's just had a heart attack."

Connor smiled, nodded to Will and headed out the door. As he left, he said to Sarah, "Rain check on lunch? I owe you a garden salad."

Instead of actually responding, she just raised her coffee cup.

"You better hold him to that!" Will said over his shoulder as he followed Connor back into the trenches.

Of course, Will had no idea why Connor owed Sarah lunch. It wasn't uncommon for the two to grab a quick lunch on the fly, usually from the food truck outside the front of the hospital. As far as any of their colleagues knew, the two were just two people whose professional relationship had slowly developed into an unlikely friendship.

The whole marriage thing was not romantic at all. Just over a year ago now, they had both been involved in the care of a woman about Sarah's age whose condition had deteriorated very quickly. She had made her wishes known, but when the time came for the hard decision to be made, she wasn't in any condition to speak up for herself. Her family made every decision in exactly the opposite way their daughter had wanted, knowingly. As much as Connor and Sarah had both argued and pleaded, the Board and the ethics committee all agreed that their hands were tied. They had no choice but to treat the patient according to the family's instructions. And now, she would spend the rest of her life in a vegetative state.

To be perfectly honest, they both suspected the family had done it out of spite. In the short time their patient was conscious, it was very clear there was no love lost between her and her family. The fact that, when push came to shove, the family could make every wrong decision - that terrified both of them to their very cores.

So a deal was struck - they went down to City Hall the very next morning after the overnight shift, signed some paperwork, and they were legally married. Which meant that, if they ever found themselves in a similar situation, someone they implicitly trust would be tasked with making the hard decisions in exactly the way they wanted them made - with the added benefit of knowing the risks.

Neither of them were close to their families, that much was obvious. Sarah particularly wanted to make sure there was no way her father - a diagnosed psychopath who genuinely did not care for or about her in any way at all - could ever be in control of whether she lived or died. And to be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure whether her mom would even notice, let alone care.

As for Connor, everyone that knew him was well aware he wanted absolutely nothing to do with his father. He wanted to be his own man, to forge his own path, and to not rely solely on the family name. He resented his father for his upbringing and his lack of parenting skills. His sister, on the other hand, he trusted. The problem was, of course, that the decisions would legally lie entirely in his father's hands.

But not anymore.

He had concluded a very long time ago that Sarah was what their fabulous charge nurse, Maggie Lockwood, would describe as "good people." He trusted her with patients at work, and in his life has a friend - and, it turns out, as someone who could potentially (if the worst were every to happen) hold his life in her hands. He was, however, surprised to find that he trusted her with his secrets. All of them, not just the ones that came out by circumstance. Somehow, without ever entirely meaning to, they had become friends and confidants. And spouses.

* * *

About ten minutes after walking in on her break, Sarah had decided to cut her break short. Heading back out into the big bad emergency department, she grabbed a tablet and got back to work. When she looked at a clock hours later, she realised she'd continued going from patient to patient, treatment to treatment, without realising how much time had passed.

"Reese!"

She'd glanced at the clock as she was leaving her most recent patient, whose complaint had been fairly mild compared to the types of things they often saw down here. She'd just signed the discharge paperwork and put the file into the appropriate tray when Maggie called her name.

The charge nurse approach with a smile, handed her another tablet and said, "Treatment two."

Being busy meant a lot of things to a lot of people. For Sarah, it meant when she walked into a treatment bay and introduced herself, she was working on autopilot. Her focus still mostly on the tablet, she said, "Hi there, I'm Dr Reese. Can you tell me a bit about what's bought you in to see us ... today."

Although intended as a question, it came out as a very fractured statement, the last of which she had whispered. As she cast her eyes up, she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

A voice, presumably belonging to whoever was on the other end of the gun, said very roughly, "Close the curtain, dump the tech and help my brother."

"I ... I ..."

"HELP MY BROTHER!"

She was shaking with fear, but she was somehow still managing to function on autopilot. Her brain was working a million miles an hour, determining very quickly that her patient was in real trouble, and so was she. From what she could obviously make out, they were both high - and based on what she was feeling in the patient's stomach, she knew this was not going to end well.

"Okay," she turned slowly to face the brother, whose gun was now pointing squarely at her forehead. "Your brother is very sick. If one of those bags in his stomach bursts, he will die."

"Well you're not going to let that happen. If he dies, you die too."

The words sent an awful, tingling sensation of doom down her spine. She forced herself to take deep, even breaths, and to keep staring this guy dead in the eye. She needed to be as forceful as she possibly could, or she would stand no chance of saving her patient. "He needs surgery."

"No."

"He needs surgery right now. If we don't operate, your brother will die."

"I SAID NO!"

She knew the yelling was going to attract attention. She knew the ED staff would step in. She also knew that someone would wind up getting hurt.

She heard it before she saw it: The curtain was opening, and Will Halstead was speaking to her before he stepped through the doorway. "Sarah, is everything -"

It all happened so quickly it was barely comprehensible. She had turned to try and stop Will, to keep him out of danger, but in doing so she turned her back to the man with the gun. In less than a second, she was in his grasp - one hand impossibly tight around her neck, the other holding the gun to her temple. When Will took that single step through the doorway, he came face to face with her and froze. In that moment, she was suddenly aware of how small she looked. And the concept of her own mortality hit her like a tonne of bricks.

"Sarah?" His voice, usually so strong and sure, came out of his mouth barely loud enough to be heard.

She took as deep a breath as she could, given the pressure on her throat. She recognised the fear in his eyes, and knew without a doubt it would be mirrored in her own. As confidently as she could, she managed to say, "I'm fine, Will."

"She's not gonna be fine for much longer if she don't save my brother. Says he needs surgery. Wants to send him somewhere for it. He's not leaving this room."

Will and Sarah shared a momentary look. She recognised the glint in his eye, and hoped beyond hope that the look on her face would be enough to stop him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognised that his mind was already made up - there would be no dissuading him now.

She knew what he was going to say before the words reached his ears. "Good thing I'm a surgeon. Will you let me come in and help?"

The man was an idiot. A righteous, sentimental idiot. And yet she knew he'd do it before it was done. That was the sort of friend the man was. On the other hand, he'd just put his own life on the line in a misguided attempt to save hers. At least, that was what she wanted to tell him. But now was not the time. If they both made it out of this alive, he was going to get an earful later. From her, and probably his own brother, the detective, too.

Somehow, they managed to fake their way through it. Given the brothers had refused any sort surgical intervention, there wasn't a lot they were actually able to do to help him. They patched an obvious wound on his shoulder and pumped him full of every painkiller they could think of so he wasn't feeling the pain. It was stupidly dangerous, and he definitely wouldn't still be conscious after he walked out of their doors, but it was enough to placate the brother with the gun.

As soon as he felt better - which, frankly, was him just being even higher now that he'd had the painkillers than he had been when they'd first walked in through the door - the brothers were insisting on leaving the ED. She knew enough to step back and let them go, but Will being Will, he tried to stop them. And promptly got hit in the face with the gun. Judging by the crack and the amount of blood suddenly running down his face, Sarah was fairly confident his nose was broken. At the very least, it had attracted attention - Will yelled when he was hit and backed out into the hallway, ending up sprawled on the floor, holding his hands over his face and half-leaning against the football in the centre of the room.

Vaguely, Sarah was aware someone had yelled out to call security, but nothing was going to stop them. Nevertheless, the whole department was in simultaneous shock and bedlam.

It all happened so fast. No one saw it coming, and no one could have stopped it.

The shots rang out, one after another, silencing the chaos in its tracks.

Everyone was still, the whole world in shock. Nobody quite seemed to believe what they had just witnessed. The only movement in the whole ED was the two brothers, one still waving his gun and the other stumbling beside him.

The utter silence was unbearable. It wasn't until Will sat up and forced himself to focus on Sarah that he realised something was really, really wrong. "Sarah?"

Still standing in the doorway she turned to face him on the floor, hands clutching her stomach, her face white as a sheet. Her eyes, now full of fear, looked straight into his. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but she couldn't make the words come out.

"Oh my God," Natalie breathed from where she was standing inside the football, her eyes having immediately fallen on Sarah the moment Will had spoken.

Maggie sprung into action just as Sarah collapsed. Will sprung forward and launched himself across the floor to ease her landing, but it wasn't enough. She hit the floor hard, clearly unconscious and very badly injured.

"Get me a gurney, get her into Baghdad. Look alive people, Reese is down."

As they lifted her onto the gurney, she was vaguely aware that she could hear everything going on around her, but she couldn't make them hear her.

"Reese, can you hear me?" Ethan's face appeared above her. "You have a belly wound - you took three gunshots. We're going to get you stabilised then up into surgery, okay? Trauma's on the way down now. We'll get you into theatre as soon as they get here."

She blinked her eyes forcefully, willing herself to keep them open. The world was going black around the edges, and she knew she couldn't let that happen.

"C ..." she tried to speak, but she just wouldn't make the sound.

Above her, she could hear Will barking orders. She forced herself to look up, trying desperately to catch his eye and communicate. Now that she saw him, it occurred to her that he'd stuffed some gauze up his own nose and jumped straight into action. Right now, he was putting as much pressure as he possibly could on her abdomen, stemming the blood flow from one of the wounds.

"What's she saying?" she heard him ask. When Ethan said something about not being able to make it out, Will looked back to Sarah herself. "Sarah! Talk to us!"

She took as deep a breath as she could, given everything they were doing to stabilise her right now, and tried again. "C ... co ..."

Maggie appeared in the doorway then, surveying the situation. "How's she doing?"

Knowing Sarah couldn't see him now that a nurse had stepped into her eyeliner, Will shook his head. "She's alert though. How you doing, Sarah?"

"Co ... con ..."

Maggie made her way into the room and around the team to stand right beside Sarah's head. She took hold of her hand and smiled down at her reassuringly. "We're already contacting your family, hon. We've got to get you up to surgery first, okay?"

As Maggie stepped away, Sarah mustered all her strength and grabbed hold of Maggie's arm. She took a very deep breath and forced the word out, her voice barely audible above the chaos but enough for Maggie to hear:

"Connor."

Maggie frowned. "Connor?" she repeated, thoroughly confused.

Sarah was nodding, though she registered someone telling her to keep her head still. It was all she could do to communicate - words were out, yes/no questions were all they had.

"Dr Rhodes?" Maggie asked her, thoroughly confused. Sarah was nodding again, eager to ensure her message got across. As she faded from consciousness, Maggie looked to Ethan and Will, who were both just as confused as she was. "I'll page Dr Rhodes."

She all but ran back out in the football and took control of the situation once again. "Page Dr Charles, he needs to know about this. And Rhodes - she's asking for him."

"Have you called her family?" Nat asked, stepping up beside Maggie. She wanted nothing more than to be inside that treatment room, but there just wasn't enough room for another person in there.

Maggie's reply was instantaneous. "I'm bringing up her employee record now."

That was when Nat gently laid a hand on her closest friend's shoulder. "You know we've got her, right? They're doing everything they possibly can."

"That doesn't help."

"I know it doesn't," Nat answered gently. "But it's all I've got."

When the screen finally loaded, both their eyes widened in surprise. In seconds, Maggie was on the phone. "Sharon, I need you down here right now."

Written on the screen in front of them, plain as day, was undoubtedly the biggest surprise of this whole episode.

 _Dr Sarah Reese - psychiatry resident_  
 _Marital Status: married_  
 _Next of Kin: Dr Connor Rhodes, MD_  
 _Relationship:husband_


	2. Two

**Two**

Sharon Goodwin always knew what was going on in her hospital. She knew her people, and she knew her people knew their jobs. The moment the ED staff had called for security, she was aware of it, and she was on her way. In the minutes that followed, however, the situation had greatly worsened - man with a gun turned to assaulted a doctor with a weapon. Moments later, that became shots fired. And a few minutes after that call, she got the worst one yet: one of her doctors was down with multiple gun shots to the abdomen.

She'd had to take the stairs, since the elevators had been locked down the moment security were called. Sharon was halfway downstairs, in a sea of her employees trying to get down there to help, when she'd got Maggie's call. In nothing short of a miracle, she managed to still have enough signal to hear what the ED charge nurse had to say. When she walked into the emergency department several minutes later, she wasn't quite sure what to expect. From what Maggie had told her, she'd gathered it was not looking good.

"How's she doing, Maggie?"

Maggie sighed, meeting Sharon at the doorway and falling into step beside her. "Not good. Trauma just arrived, they're getting ready to take her up."

"Have you paged Dr Charles?"

The man himself walked out of the trauma bay just as they arrived, disposing of his gloves on his way out. "Right here."

Sharon nodded once, momentarily squeezing Dr Charles' hand reassuringly. "And her next of kin?"

"About that."

All eyes were momentarily on Maggie, who looked from the Head of Psychiatry to the Chief of Services uncomfortably.

Dr Charles was the one to break the silence. "Has anyone paged Dr Rhodes?"

Maggie stared at him, dumbfounded. "You knew?"

Sharon smiled. "Of course. I assume Rhodes is in surgery."

"Nope, just finished," he strode confidently down the hallway, looking a little worse for wear in his scrubs and still wearing his surgical hat. "Heard the ED's on lockdown, had a hell of a time getting down here. I got an urgent page, came down as soon as we were done. Someone want a consult?"

"Not exactly," Sharon stepped in. "Dr Rhodes, there has been an incident."

He didn't reply, instead just looked at her with a confused expression adorning his face. Having worked in the medical field for as long as he had, he knew that tone of voice. Given his trauma training, he'd had a lot of experience using that tone of voice. There was no reason he should be hearing that tone of voice right now.

The commotion from Baghdad drew his attention - the people, the noise ... and then the patient.

His knees felt weak - Maggie and Goodwin both reached out of steady him, but he'd already taken off. He ran as fast as he could, straight toward the gurney, pushing people out of his way to make sure he got from point A to point B impossibly quickly.

"Rhodes!" Will called, grabbing him by the shoulder. "What are you doing? We need to get her up to theatre now."

Connor ripped himself out of Will's grip, glared at him and spat venomously, "Let go of me."

"We need to go."

"No!" Connor yelled at him, forcing the gurney to stop. "I want to know what's going on."

Ethan stepped in, knowing if he didn't the other two doctors would come to blows. "Rhodes, she was shot. She's got three wounds, we've got to get her up to surgery now."

Connor tearfully moved a stray curl behind Sarah's ear. "Oh my God," he breathed, finally taking in what he was seeing in front of him. She was hurt - badly. This was as serious an injury as anything else that could be thrown his way on a trauma shift in Chicago.

He finally tore his eyes away from Sarah, who was unconscious on the gurney in front of him. He looked back to Will and Ethan and said very quietly, "Okay. We're going to theatre."

This time, it was Dr Charles' turn to step in. "No."

Before the two doctors could come to blows, Sharon stepped in as hospital administrator and said to the staff around the gurney, "Get her to theatre."

"I'm going, too."

"No, you are not," Dr Charles told Dr Rhodes plainly and authoritatively. "You are not operating."

"You can't stop me!"

"Dr Rhodes!"

But even the head of the hospital yelling at him didn't make him stop. Rhodes was off, sprinting down the hallway in an attempt to join Sarah and the team currently escorting her upstairs. Unluckily for him, he was only halfway down the hallway when the elevator doors closed and she was taken out of his grasp.

"Damnit!"

Without a second thought, he turned left and reefed the door to the stairwell open so hard that he managed to scare the people on the other side.

"Out of the way!" he yelled, forcing his way through the crowd and up the staircase.

Sharon and Dr Charles finally caught up with him again upstairs at the theatre, where he was halfway through furiously scrubbing whilst simultaneously looking through the window and watching the OR team put Sarah under anaesthesia. It was only when Dr Charles stood in front of the OR door that Connor finally stopped. He broke in front of their eyes, his shoulders sagging. Dr Charles put a comforting hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to speak.

"I can't help her."

Dr Charles looked through the window, observing the team begin their life-saving surgery. "The best thing you can do for her right now is to wait. And to trust in her team."

Sharon put a comforting arm around Connor's shoulders and gently led him out of the scrub room. "Let's go down to the ICU waiting room. They'll bring her down there when she's out of surgery."

* * *

Three hours later, Connor found himself wandering the halls aimlessly. They'd had no word from the OR, and no one would tell him anything. Police were swarming, taking statements from staff and patients alike. Anyone who had been in the ED all day was being contacted and spoken to as part of the investigation. It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for him, but right now Jay Halstead was keeping everyone at bay, per his brother's request. Connor was grateful they'd elected to leave him in peace, but at the same moment he genuinely didn't care - he had bigger things on his mind.

Connor's pointless worrying wasn't doing anyone any good, and he knew it. But if nothing else, the aimless wondering was keeping him feet occupied - he'd been through the hospital twice now, ignoring everything and everyone, just allowing his mind to wander. It occurred to him that he was stationary, and it took him a moment to work out why.

He was staring at the doors to the hospital chapel.

"Are you a praying man, Dr Rhodes?"

He hadn't noticed Dr Latham quietly walk up and join him in staring into the beautiful, but still very intimidating room.

"No," Connor replied, not taking his eyes off the timber pews in front of him. "But my wife is. Maybe there's something to it."

It felt odd to refer to her as his wife. It was something he had never said out loud before. But Latham didn't even blink an eye. He simply nodded, and said, "Wise woman."

Connor laughed involuntarily, tears filling his eyes. He found himself rubbing them frustratedly, taking a moment to calm himself before he spoke again. "Beyond her years," he said finally. "She always seems to find a way to remind me of that."

Dr Latham looked thoughtfully to Connor then took a single step forward, gesturing for them to enter the chapel space.

"In my experience," he said in his usual, measured tone, "God listens to all prayers."

"I wouldn't know where to start."

This time, it was Latham who took the lead. "A prayer can be a thought, or a word." He paused for a moment as they sat down, then continued, "There's a Jewish prayer for healing, Mi Shebeirach. Would you mind?"

"Of course."

Dr Latham paused, then began to pray. It was beautiful, and clearly very full of meaning. Conor had no idea what was being said, of course, but he appreciated it nonetheless. The beautiful words continued, until Latham finally ended with, "Amen."

"Amen," Connor echoed.

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, but was really only about fifteen minutes. The silence was broken by Dr Charles, who popped his head through the doorway and went to continue on his way, but did a double taken when he recognised the two men sitting silently in the pews.

"Connor," he said quietly, watching as Connor's head flicked around violently. Within seconds, he was out of his seat. "Nothing to panic about. Sarah is out of surgery, they're moving her to the ICU now."

"Did they say anything? Anything at all?"

Dr Charles shook his head. "No. The trauma surgeon will come and talk you through it shortly. If you don't mind, I'd like to head up there with you."

"Of course." Connor started toward the exit, then turned back toward to Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery. "Thank you, Dr Latham."

The doctor nodded his head once; then turned back to his prayers.


	3. Three

**Three**

She looked helpless lying in that bed, hooked up to what looked like a dozen machines. The logical reality was that he knew what each and every one of those monitors was saying, but right now it was all too overwhelming. For the first time in his career, he understood what it felt like to be a scared, confused loved one.

He stood frozen in the doorway, unable to force one foot in front of the other. Instead, he stood with his arms crossed tightly across his chest, staring down at the defenceless woman in the bed.

"Rhodes," the surgeon said, striding past him into the room purposefully. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I - uh -" Connor stammered, twisting uncomfortably on the spot. Despite the fact that he spoke to his colleagues literally every day, today he found himself at a total loss for words.

"We waiting for the family?"

Connor stammered, then stepped very gingerly into the room. "Uh, no. That would be me." In an answer to the very quizzical look the trauma surgeon was throwing him, he awkwardly added in almost a whisper, "Husband."

The fact that his eyebrows were raised somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline gave away his surprise. "I think I'm supposed to say congratulations, but considering the circumstances ..."

Connor nodded awkwardly, slowly making his way over to stand at Sarah's side.

"Look, I'm not going to sugarcoat it to you, Rhodes. She's not in a good way. She took three gunshots to the abdomen, two of which were through-and-through. We had to to do repair on multiple organs ... She's touch and go. We'll do everything we can, but we're not making any promises. You might want to consider calling your family up to see her."

Connor sank down in the uncomfortable chair beside the bed, the words hitting him like a tonne of bricks.

He sat there, alone, for a very long time. He knew Dr Charles had been watching over them from the nurses station, but he only really registered it when the man himself was standing in the doorway. Connor knew this was his cue to talk.

"This wasn't how today was supposed to go," he said very quietly, rubbing his hands over his face heavily and suddenly feeling very tired. "We should be at home right now. We'd be eating spaghetti and watching trashy reality TV."

Dr Charles sat down in the same uncomfortable chair on the other side fo Sarah's bed. "Really? I wouldn't have pegged the two of you for reality TV fans."

"I'm not even sure there is a two of us. Before today, no one knew that was even a possibility." Connor stopped, running his hands through his hair in the same way he did when he was stressed. "You knew."

Dr Charles nodded. "I did."

Connor simply raised an eyebrow.

"Head of department - the paperwork crossed my desk."

That certainly explained his lack of shock at the revelation that had definitely caused waves amongst their friends and colleagues. What would throw him when he thought about it later was that Dr Charles had never mentioned it, or even so much as eluded to it, to either of them. Of course, the psychiatrist understood there would be a reason they hadn't told anyone, or even invited them to the wedding. He knew, sitting here in this room, that he was about to find out.

They sat in silence for a long moment before Connor finally answered the senior doctor's unasked question. "It wasn't supposed to be romantic. I mean it's not, but it is - or maybe it might be. I've got no idea what we are, or what it all means."

"What do you mean?"

"We signed a piece of paper. That paper made us legally responsible for the hard choices. We wanted to protect ourselves if anything were ever to happen - we wanted the decisions to be left in the hands of someone we trust. Being legally married guarantees that."

Dr Charles sighed. "Because of that case last year. The parents who did the opposite of what their daughter wanted."

Connor shrugged. "Exactly. It was just too easy to see ourselves in that exact situation," he said. "But now ... I don't really know what we are. And to complicate things more, I am sitting at my wife's bedside telling all of this to her boss, who also happens to be my ex's father."

"I guess life has a sense of humour."

He sighed, reaching out to hold Sarah's hand for the first time since this whole episode started. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted this was the first time he hadn't felt the overwhelming fear of rejection he usually felt when making such a simple move with her.

"I just want her to wake up and tell me this was all a bad dream. I'm having a nightmare, this is some sort of sick joke from the universe, none of it is real. I want to know that she's going to be okay. That she's going to have a future."

"You know as well as I do that's just not guaranteed, for any of us," Dr Charles said thoughtfully. "All we have right now is hope."

At least for today, hope would have to be enough.


	4. Four

**Four**

She felt groggy. She didn't know why, but she was very confident she was somewhere between being awake and asleep, but she had no control over it. Sometimes she was aware of the people around her, other times she knew nothing at all. It was like she was a part of the world, but she couldn't interact with it.

And the beeping was starting to drive her nuts - every time she tried to move something, or to say something, or God forbid make an attempt to get out of bed, that incessant beeping would start again. It was louder than any alarm clock she had the great displeasure of meeting - but still, she remained asleep and yet not asleep.

It took her what felt like days to make sense of it. She could hear them talking to her, and sometimes about her. They were doctors, her friends and colleagues from Med. There was something about an 'incident', whatever that meant. And she'd had surgery. She couldn't quite make out the details - and she had zero memory to draw on - but whatever it was, it sounded serious.

Judging by the rotations of the people around her, she guessed she was in the ICU. They were all very nice, and very good at introducing themselves to her at every change of shift. Nurse Dina was on again today - that was the fourth time this week.

The one constant through it all was him. Connor. He was always here.

Cat must be out of the bag on that one. Oops.

They had intended to keep it to themselves. Mostly because it was primarily a legal arrangement, just a piece of paper. A just-in-case type of arrangement. But the best laid plans never worked out quite the way you thought they would. Things had become so complicated in her own head recently that she didn't know what they were, but there was one thing she was sure of: It was definitely not just a piece of paper anymore.

Lord only knew what they were to each other now, but the were definitely something. She hoped.

The fact that he hadn't left her side fo days meant something, right?

It had to.

Maybe.

Who knew?

* * *

Six days. He'd been sitting at her bedside for six days, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for anything to happen. And still, nothing. He wasn't sure of a lot right now, but there was one thing he was definitely certain of - she was in there. She had to be in there. He didn't think he could face a world in which she wasn't there beside him.

Where had that thought come from?

After the initial shock of the day it had happened, he tried to maintain a level of involvement appropriate for a colleague. Within about an hour, he knew he had failed miserably, but he kept trying. And then he overheard the first onset of the infamous Gaffney rumour mill - it seemed the whole staff knew. And yet, he still found himself trying to keep his professional facade in place.

Among friends, on the other hand, he had dropped all pretences. Their colleagues from down in the ED visited regularly, many of them bringing food and coffee for Connor. It had become tradition for Maggie to come up to visit twice a day, at the beginning and the end of her shift. She would sit by Sarah's beside and watch over her while Connor headed back into the doctor's lounge to shower and change his clothes, or check on a patient.

On day three, Claire arrived at the hospital looking for him when he missed their standing lunch date. Nat had stumbled across her downstairs and led her straight up to the ICU, unknowingly informing her along the way that her little brother was married and sitting vigil by his wife's bedside. Her fury had changed immediately to concern as soon as she saw him fast asleep, flopped over the side of the bed. It looked like the most uncomfortable position, his head laying next to Sarah and the rest of his body somehow still seated in the chair. She pulled up a chair and sat beside him silently for hours while he slept. When he finally did wake up, her first priority was to help - she ran interference with their father, brought him clothes and a phone charger and food, and anything else she thought he might need. At this point, the majority of the personal possessions in this room were not Sarah's, but his.

By day five, Claire was a regular at the hospital cafeteria. She knew what time to go and who to talk to to make sure she got her hands on all of Connor's favourite comfort foods. It was at this point they heard Ms Goodwin had finally managed to get in contact with Sarah's mother - it had taken about six messages before her mother had actually answered a call, but they had finally spoken. From what Ms Goodwin had told them, it sounded like her mother was more annoyed at the disruption to her schedule than she was concerned for her daughter's health.

Thursday marked day seven. They had scaled back her medication last night to bring her out of the medically induced coma, having determined she was not stable enough to be awake for her recovery. It was going to take time, but everyone was hopeful. At the very least, they had determined she was strong enough to at least try to fight this.

He was pulled out of his reflection of the last week by a commotion in the hallway. He'd been here and done this before - someone very determined and intimidating had just entered the ICU.

A voice startled him from the doorway: "Who the hell are you?"

Connor's head immediately jerked from Sarah, who was still fast asleep, to the doorway, where a short middle-aged woman with horn-rimmed glasses and greying curly hair was staring at him expectantly.

"Well?"

Connor really didn't know what to say. "I ... uh ..."

The woman, who was impeccably dressed in high-end business attire, glared at him in such a ferocious manner. He just didn't know what to make of it, almost as if his brain couldn't comprehend what it was seeing. When he didn't respond, the woman in the doorway started yelling for security at the top of her lungs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," a voice said in the hallway. Dr Charles had suddenly materialised out of nowhere. "I'm sure we can work this out without needing to get security involved. I'm Dr Daniel Charles, head of the psychiarty department. I gather you are Dr Reese's mother?"

This time, the woman rounded on him. "Why does my daughter need a psychiatrist? Surely you're not suggesting she did this to herself?"

"No, no, of course not," Dr Charles assured her. "Sarah works in my department - she's one of our most promising residents."

The mother scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Psychiatry. For God's sake, Sarah, psychiatry? At least pathology was a respectable choice."

"Ms Reese, I understand you are under a lot of stress with your daughter being injured. Perhaps we could sit down and discuss -"

"- I don't need a shrink. I need to know who this neanderthal is, and why the hell he is staring at my daughter like she's a piece of meat."

For the first time in a very long time, Connor Rhodes felt small. It was strange, feeling as though you were two feet tall. But he wasn't this person anymore. He was tall, he was strong, and he was going to stand up for himself.

He stood up, projecting all the confidence he could muster and said, "I'm Dr Connor Rhodes, cardiothoracic surgery fellow."

He noted almost proudly that the mother simply stared at his outstretched hand.

"Is that supposed to impress me?"

"No," Connor replied, sitting back down and taking Sarah's hand gingerly in his own. "Dr Charles, would you mind letting Sharon know they've backed off her medication? She wanted to be around when she wakes."

Dr Charles nodded kindly. "Of course."

"What the hell is going on here?!" the mother yelled, garnering the attention of literally everyone else in the ICU at that moment. "Why is this surgeon person giving instructions about my daughter?"

As if she knew this conversation was about to come to blows, Ms Goodwin appeared out of nowhere. "Ms Reese, I'm Sharon Goodwin, chief of services - we spoke on the phone. It's a pleasure to meet you in person, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Perhaps you are the one who can explain why this random person is making decisions about my daughter's care."

Sharon looked from Connor to Dr Charles, who shrugged. To Connor, she said, "Dr Rhodes?"

Connor stood up again, moving to join the group huddled in the doorway. "The reason I am making decision regarding your daughter, Ms Reese, is because we are married. I have made every decision to ensure that my wife gets the best possible care in this hospital. If you have a problem with that, you can speak with the hospital's legal team."

And that was how he found himself sitting in the board room next door to Ms Goodwin's office, accompanied by the woman herself, Dr Charles, Sarah's mother and a whole lot of legal men in suits.

"This is ridiculous," he said to Ms Goodwin, who was trying to have a civil discussion with the lawyers. "We are legally married. We made that decision as two consenting adults. Why is this being questioned?"

Ms Reese glared at him, responding sarcastically, "Normally, Mr Rhodes, a couple holds a ceremony and invites their family to celebrate. Or at the very least, they tell their family that they eloped. It's a great big red flag when a family finds out that the marriage has been hidden."

"It's _Doctor_ Rhodes," Connor spat, standing up and slamming his hands against the table. "And what exactly are you suggesting?"

Ms Reese stood equally as ferociously, leaning over the table to glare directly into Connor's eyes. "My daughter was only a medical student when you first met. Perhaps your relationship wasn't as innocent as it appeared on the outside. You had a hand in her training. Perhaps you set her up for failure in the emergency department. Perhaps you were the one who coerced her into not going into pathology. Perhaps you pulled the strings to get her into psychiatry, so you could set her up for failure all over again. Do you enjoy watching a young girl fail, _Doctor_ Rhodes?"

"Excuse me?" Connor was seething with rage. Just as he was about to lose his shit completely by yelling right in the woman's face, he found himself cut off.

"That is enough," Dr Charles said forcefully. "For the record, Ms Reese, Dr Rhodes had absolutely nothing to do with your daughter moving into psychiatry. I am head of department, I am the one who offered her the opportunity - and she is the one who decided to take it. As for the rest of your accusations, they are completely unfounded."

Ms Reese had opened her mouth to respond, but the whole room froze when the door opened just enough for Maggie to pop her head through. Ignoring the rest of the room, she spoke directly to the doctors. "You've been requested up in the ICU. Connor, they want you to wait outside with me."

Connor was out of his chair in an instant, already running through the halls beside Maggie. "What are you not telling me?"

They stopped outside an elevator, and Maggie put a comforting hand on his arm. "She's just arrested."


	5. Five

**Five**

He paced up and down the corridor, waiting impatiently for the door to open and let him through. Maggie sat with Claire on the chairs, each holding a cup of coffee and silently watching him panic. Unsurprisingly, Sarah's mother was nowhere to be seen. She had remained upstairs in the board room, working with her legal team to try to find a way to invalidate their marriage.

He watched through the glass door as the team hurried around into Sarah's room and back out again. He envied Dr Charles and Ms Goodwin, who were standing on the far side of the nurses station out of the way enough to allow the team to do their jobs, but also still close enough to ensure they knew exactly what was going on.

It had been half an hour. Monitors were still going off one after another, but no one had given up yet. _That's a good sign_ , he though every time the beeping stopped. And then, almost immediately, it would start again and his heart would jump back into his throat again.

Then suddenly, it all stopped. He was paralysed in fear, staring blankly into the ICU and barely registering Dr Charles moving slowly down the corridor toward him. Even when the elder doctor hit the manual release button to open the door, Connor didn't move a muscle.

He took a deep breath, and placed a comforting hand on Connor's shoulder. "They got her back," he said quietly. "Dr Latham is on his way up to talk to you as we speak. It looks like there may be some injury to her heart."

"Her -?" Claire, not standing beside her brother, looked confusedly from one doctor to another. "Connor?"

He was still staring blankly at Dr Charles, but he still managed to answer her on autopilot. "One of the wounds was higher, more toward the chest cavity. It's not impossible that one of the bullets may have nicked the heart, which could be causing blood to seep into the pericardial sac."

"Which means," Maggie explained to Claire in layman's terms, "her heart might not be able to beat in the way that it should. If there is enough fluid around the heart, it stops it from being able to beat."

"Oh my God," Claire breathed.

Connor finally looked over at his sister. "This is all conjecture. It could be anything." Turning back to Dr Charles, he asked, "Can I see her?"

"Of course," Dr Charles replied, moving aside to let Connor through and then following him down the hallway and into Sarah's room.

Claire gasped in shock when she arrived. Prior to this point, Sarah had been breathing on her own. Now, she was intubated and her breathing supported by a ventilator.

Connor, who heard the noise behind him, sat down beside his wife once again and smiled softly, gently tucking a curl behind her ear. "It looks scarier than it is," he said to his sister, who gingerly sat down in the empty chair beside him. "The ventilator is breathing for her, it gives her body a chance to rest."

"Comforting," she replied very quietly. "Is it dangerous? repairing this heart thing."

Connor shrugged. "It has risks, yes. But this is the kind of thing I do every day."

* * *

Hours later, the surgery was complete and Connor and Claire were once again sat by Sarah's bed. Dr Latham had repaired the damage to her heart without too much trouble, in what he had termed a 'fairly simple, but not routine surgery.'

Time seemed to pass by without him realising it. He sat in his same chair, the blanket that Maggie had thrown over him when Sarah had first come out of surgery still draped over his shoulders. Sitting in his chair, staring absently down at her, he had no concept of time. The sun had set and was starting to rise again when he found himself blinking very hard, willing himself to stop seeing things. But no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes, he still saw them.

Her gorgeous brown eyes were open, and they were staring directly into his own.

"... Sarah?"

His voice had come out in barely a whisper. Her eyes followed him as he stood and took a tentative step closer. They were glued to his as he reached out and clasped a hand tightly in his. They blinked very slowly and deliberately when he felt the sensation of her very gently squeezing his hand.

"Oh my God," he breathed, breaking the silence of the room. To the nurses out at the nurses station, he called, "Call Dr Latham - she's awake."

The most senior of the team was at the doorway in a flash, checking Sarah's monitors and assessing the situation. "Dr Rhodes, it's barely 5am. The on-call is -"

Connor turned his head to glare sideway at the nurse. He took a deep breath and growled, "Call Latham."

The nurse made to say something, but he beat her to it. "His instructions on this patient are very specific, so call him."

"But -"

If it weren't for his sister, whom he had apparently woken, standing up and placing a hand on his arm, Connor would have blown his top. "Connor, breathe," she reminded him calmly.

"Fine," Connor conceded to the nurse. "Call Goodwin - she wanted to be here, day or night. And page Dr Charles, he's up in his office. I'll call Latham."

The nurse took a very deep breath and said robotically, "Yes, doctor."

Thankfully, Latham had answered his phone in less than two rings. The second Connor had confirmed his mentor was on his way in, his attention was back on Sarah. She was laying there incredibly calm, all things considered, waiting for him.

"You gave us a right scare," he told her gently, running a hand over her arm comfortingly. "Latham's on his way in. We need his okay before we can extubate you."

Claire had sat back down in her chair now, content to hang back on the sidelines. It had been an awfully long time since she'd seen this look in Connor's eyes. For the first time in forever, he was content. Happy, even. It was enough to make this sister smile.

On the other side of the room, Sarah was trying to communicate with Connor as best she could. Very quickly, it became apparent that the hand gestures were not working.

"Hey, hey," he smiled, holding both of her hands in his. "It's okay, it's okay. Yes or no - do you remember what happened?"

It was barely noticeable, but the small movement of her had from side to side was still enough for him to catch.

"You were in the ED with a patient. It, uh ..." He faltered there. It was so simple, but knowing what had happened and explaining it were two very different things.

After a long, indecisive moment, he finally managed to whisper, "You were shot, Sarah. Three times."

He knew her well enough to know that would be her first question.

She gripped his hand tightly now, communicating his him the only way she currently could.

"Two to the abdomen. They didn't hit anything vital, but you had a couple organ repairs."

Her eyes met his, waiting expectantly. She knew there was more to the story. He was doing his best to be Dr Rhodes, but he kept dropping the mask. Stammering was not normal for Connor Rhodes. He was a man that was always so sure of himself. It was one of the things she loved about him.

"The third, uh ... It was higher than the others. In your chest." He closed his eyes as he added very quietly, "It did some damage to your heart. Latham operated to repair it."

Another voice in the doorway caught their attention then.

"You gave us a right scare there, kid," Dr Charles said. He looked dishevelled and half asleep. He'd abandoned his coat, presumably back in his office; his hair was sticking up in every possible direction. "It's good to see your eyes open. Hubby over there was starting to get on the nurses nerves."

She was gripping his hand so tight that her fingernails, short though they may be, were causing indents on his palm.

Connor laughed. "Yeah, I've been a total pain in the ass. But that's normal, right?"

He could have sworn the light puffing of air from her nose was her laughing.

Goodwin and Dr Latham walked into the ICU side by side fifteen minutes later. He'd never seen the head of the hospital wearing jeans before. She had a comforting hand on his shoulder as Latham immediately jumped into assessing Sarah's current condition.

"Well, Ms R -" Dr Latham had to stop himself, and try again. "Ah, Mrs ... Doctor ..."

He looked awkwardly to Connor, who knew exactly wha the was trying to work out. He wanted to address her by her correct name, as social convention would dictate.

"It's Dr Reese," Connor said helpfully. "Miss independent over here kept her surname."

"Ah," Dr Latham nodded to him, thanking him without saying or showing it. Connor didn't mind - it was just his way. To Sarah, he continued, "Dr Reese, I am not sure how much Dr Rhodes has told you. You sustained three gunshot wounds, multiple organ lacerations, and some damage to your heart. We have repaired all of the internal injuries, however you will need to remain in the hospital for the near future so we can continue to monitor you. You also have several broken ribs - an unfortunate result of chest compressions."

Sarah's eyes met Connor, who nodded slowly. "You crashed. More than once."

Latham looked from husband to wife, then said, "We are ready to extubate. Please step outside for the time being."

It took all of five minutes, but it seemed to drag on forever.

"Hey, don't look," Connor said to Claire, gently turning her away from the glass door of Sarah's room. "This is not something you'll want to watch."

Goodwin actually chuckled. "Oh, he's exaggerating."

Claire continued to stare steadfastly up at the ceiling, determined not to look a there surrounds. "No, he's right," she said confidently. "I'm no good with any of this medical stuff. That's all his department."

"This is nothing on what we see every day," Connor told his sister, who pulled a face.

"Yeah, not all of us are cut out to be hot shot surgeons, little brother."

It was at that point that the nurses allowed them back into the room. Connor was immediately back by Sarah's side, sitting himself very gently on the edge of her bed. Her hands found his and she smiled. He could had sworn his heart skipped a beat.

Her voice was very quiet, very hoarse, and her throat felt like it was on fire. That was al thanks to the intubation - not entirely pleasant side effects, but it had been necessary to keep her alive.

"Hi," she whispered, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Hey," he responded just as quietly.

She finally tore her eyes off him and looked around the room, acknowledging each of her other visitors with a smile. The shock was written all over her face when her gaze finally landed on Claire.

"Hi Sarah," Claire beamed over at her. "It's amazing to finally actually meet you."

Sarah quizzed Connor's hand gently and asked, "So I finally won, right? He caved in and told you."

"Uh, not exactly," Claire laughed. "Bit of a shock, finding out and everything, but ... Good surprises are always like that."

"Good surprises indeed," Ms Goodwin echoed, now stepping forward and sitting herself down in Connor's vacated chair.

Connor's eyes didn't leave Sarah once as she quietly spoke with Goodwin, Dr Charles and Claire.

This time, at least, hope had been enough.


	6. Six

**Six**

By the time Sarah felt herself stirring again, it was early evening. Despite spending most of the last week unconscious, she had still managed to sleep the day away.

She had been acutely aware of her surroundings throughout the day, despite her body insisting on continuing to sleep. She knew Maggie had visited before hte start of her shift, and that she had helpfully delivered Connor and Claire a breakfast of homemade bacon and eggs, because at this point there was no way they could not be sick of eating the same foods from the hospital cafeteria. She knew Ethan and Nat had dropped in every time they transferred a patient from the ED, which was driving the nurses nuts and led to them being urgently paged back downstairs on more than one occasion.

And then there was Will. He had been in to see her at least six times today. He never spoke and didn't stay long - it was only that whoever else was in the room when he arrived would greet him that let her know he was there. They were all worried about him, she'd heard them talking about it whenever one of her colleagues popped up to visit. According to their colleagues, he'd been unusually quiet and almost withdrawn since the day it had happened. Despite the fact there was no way it could possibly be his fault, he was blaming himself. The worst part was he wouldn't talk about it.

"I'm worried about him," Natalie had told Connor earlier in the day. "He won't talk about it, not to me or to anyone. Sharon forced him to sit down with Dr Charles yesterday. They stared at each other for an hour."

"Believe me, Nat, I want to help but I can't," Connor had replied. "He won't even look me in the eye."

Ethan had shed more light on the situation when he visited not long after Nat left. "Will's taking this hard, man. Too hard."

"To be blunt, he's not helping himself right now. Until he wants to open up to someone, there's not a lot we can do for him."

Ethan had sighed. "The only person he's even looking at right now is Sarah."

"I know. He's been up to see her four times already today."

* * *

Despite her constant stream of visitors, her room had been quiet and peaceful all day. But all that had changed in the last five minutes - in her still mostly-asleep state, she couldn't make out what was being said. All she could hear was the yelling. She supposed it was probably the noise that had finally started to stir her back into the land of the living - and yelling.

As she continued through the slow wake-up process, the voices and the words became clearer and clearer.

"And I don't suppose her father knows about this? The good-for-nothing rat shows back up in her life, gets a heart transplant and then vanishes into thin air again!"

"That is neither here nor there -"

"- And how on earth does a doctor get shot in the middle of the emergency department? What kind of s hospital is this?!"

It was Connor who stepped in. "Look, this is an ICU. If you want to make a big song and dance, you need to do it somewhere else. This ward is for our sickest patients and their families. They _do not_ need you YELLING!"

"I WILL YELL IF I DAMN WELL WANT TO, YOU SWINE! YOU DO NOT GET TO TALK TO ME!"

"For the last time, she is _my wife_! I have made every decision to ensure she gets the best possible care!"

"BULL! YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT HER, AND -"

"- YOU _DO NOT_ GET TO TELL ME HOW I FEEL!"

Connor's yelling was the catalyst for Sarah's eyes shooting open. Her eyes were still very bleary, and as a result the world around her appeared in a blur. But she'd recognise that yelling anywhere. She'd grown up hearing it. Her mom was the type to blow her top and yell at the top of her lungs with little to no warning. It wasn't often that Sarah had ever seen her speechless, but that was exactly what she saw standing in front of her right now.

With as much volume as she could muster, Sarah managed to say, "Give it up, mom. Just stop."

Connor was by her side in less than a second, sitting on the edge of her bed and checking her over.

"I'm fine, Connor," she insisted, brushing his hands away and trying to sit up in the bed.

"No, no, no, no, no," Nat insisted, running through to door and gently pushing her back into the bed. (Apparently, the noise disturbance had drawn a crowd). "We don't want you to pop your stitches. Lay still, we'll sit the bed up."

As Nat and Connor continued to fuss, Sarah lay back and glared at her mother. By the time they had moved the bed up slightly, security had arrived. They stood back at the other end of the ward, watching the scene play out in front of them along with everyone else in the vicinity. The mother and daughter both glared at each other, the mother's arms crossed and shoulders squared.

If looks could kill, Sarah would definitely be a goner. Then again, so would her mom.

She finally pushed Connor away and addressed her mother. "What is your problem?"

" _Excuse me_?"

"You heard me."

"Who do you think you are?"

Without missing a beat, Sarah spat her sarcastic reply. "Dr Sarah Reese, psychiatry resident, Gaffney Chicago Medical Center."

"How dare you -"

"- No mom, how dare _you_."

Her mother was speechless, as was everyone else around them. After all, Sarah wasn't exactly known for standing up for herself.

"How dare you come in here pretending to be an actual, caring parent. Like you're a normal human being."

Her mom opened her mouth to say something, but Sarah held up a hand to silence her and continued with her verbal hits.

"How dare you insult my husband. Believe me, he knows what he's doing. He knows the outcome of the decisions he's been making. And he knows what I want him to do in any possible situation. He has my best interests in mind. Unlike you."

Her mother didn't dare open her mouth.

"So shut up. Don't you dark walk in here and pretend to be my mother. I don't have a mother, just like I no longer have a father. But I do have a husband, one who cares about me. You should be happy for us."

"Well, I'm not. There is no way this cad can be good enough for my daughter."

Sarah rolled her eyes dramatically. "Marriage is not about good pedigree, mother. But believe me, you would be jumping up and down in glee if you bothered to Google the name Connor Rhodes. But he is so much more than where he comes from. He is kind, and honest, and thoughtful. He comes to work every day and walks into impossible situations, putting people back together when they come in with the most gruesome injuries. He can repair a hole in an infant's beating heart - a tiny thing the size of a strawberry."

"But more than all of that," she said, now pushing herself up on her bed so she was sitting upright, "he _sees_ me. He has since the very first moment we met. I matter to him. And that's more than I can say for you."

She reached a hand out and grabbed hold of Connor's arm now, a silent gesture asking for his help to lay her back against the mattress. Sitting up was not a good idea - her chest and her stomach were on fire. But it was all worth it to see that look on her mother's face - the woman had treated her in her usual awful way for the very last time.

Once he had her settled, Connor turned back to his mother-in-law. "With all due respect, Ms Reese," he said in a very even voice, "our security team will be removing you from the premises now. And, as my wife has tactfully explained, we very respectfully request that you do not come back."

If her life were a TV show, this would be the part where the gathered masses broke out into impressed applause. But this was reality, in the ICU. The people around them had things to do, and/or sick family members to watch over. It was all very anticlimactic, watching everyone just turn away and go back to their own lives. They sat in silence while Nat finished fussing over her. Both nodded to her awkwardly when she left - after all, these were two very private people whose whole relationship and family drama was suddenly and quite unexpectedly on display. They both knew wha thad happened here this evening would be all over the hospital in a hot minute. Neither was looking forward to that.

It wasn't until Nat had drawn the curtain to give them their privacy that either of them even moved. They were each keenly aware that they were purposely looking in the opposite direction to the other; they could see each other in their peripheral vision, but actually looking at one another suddenly felt like it was a step too far.

Eventually, Connor ran a hand distractedly through his hair. "So ... that happened."

It was a feeble attempt at a joke, but it was exactly what they needed.

She winced in pain as soon as she chuckled, but it didn't stop her. "Ooh, no. No laughing. Pain."

"Oh, are you -"

He cut himself off mid-sentence when he saw himself gently holding one of her hands in his, and tucking some stray curls behind her ear with the other. It was a simple gesture that probably wouldn't have meant a lot to almost anyone else. But these two had been walking on the very edge of the line between being friends-who-are-technically-married and the awkward grey area of 'something more' for far longer than either of them would care to admit. They'd crossed a toe across the line here and there, but they'd never done anything like this.

Out of nowhere, he was suddenly sure - he was ready to jump in. He was ready to catapult himself across the line, to divebomb his way through the messy grey area and show her he wanted more.

They were both frozen, staring directly into each other's eyes for an immeasurable amount of time. Millimetre by millimetre, he leaned down toward her excruciatingly slowly. Their gazes flickered from eyes to lips and back more than once. Both knew what was about to happen, and both knew it had been an awfully long time coming.

Just as their lips were about to meet, a soft knock sounded in the doorway and the curtain opened to reveal Will Halstead.

Sarah and Connor froze in place. Of course their moment would be interrupted.

Connor slowly leaned back and shared a smile with his wife. "We can talk later," he said quietly, standing up and clapping Will on the shoulder. "I'll leave you guys to it."

Sarah waved Connor out, then sat back and waited for Will to speak.

"Uh ..."

Well, he'd tried. And she knew he'd been beating himself up about it - quite aside from what she'd heard from the others, it was written all over his face. Particularly in the bags under his eyes.

"It's not your fault, Will."

As soon as the words were out there, she could see him break. He slumped down into the empty chair beside her bed and tried to will the tears welling in his eyes not to fall.

"I'm so sorry, Sarah," he whispered finally, wiping away the escaping tears.

"No. You don't get to do this to yourself," she told him forcefully. "The patient was a criminal. There was nothing you or anyone could have done to stop it."

"You nearly died. You nearly died more than once."

She shrugged. "But I didn't."

"You nearly did."

"Will, I didn't," she implored him. "That's what matters here."

She reached out to squeeze one of his hands. Unlike with Connor only minutes before, this was a comforting gesture between friends. One that neither realised exactly how much they had needed.

They sat there together for the better part of an hour before they were interrupted again. Connor was back, this time with Dr Charles in tow.

"He's in here," Connor said very quietly to the psychiatrist, who had clearly been looking for the red head.

"Hey Will," Dr Charles said nonchalantly, gesturing hello to Sarah as well. "Hey, we need to sit down and have a chat. And we're going to need to actually talk this time. Your friends down in the ED have been real worried about you, man."

"Family," Sarah corrected him automatically, patting Will on the shoulder as she did. "Down in the ED, we're family. And we get upset when something bad happens to one of us."

"We're protective like that," Connor added, slowly making his way over to Will and Sarah. "And we beat ourselves up about it."

Sarah smiled. As much as these two had initially butted heads, they still managed to come out the other side of it as friends.

To Will, she said, "It's okay to feel like that sometimes. But what we have to remember is that sometimes - just like this time - there is nothing we can do to stop it all from going wrong."

"No one is putting blame on you for anything, Will," Connor said slowly. "This is not your fault. There is nothing you could have done to stop it. What you did do, is everything you could. You saved Sarah's life. I will never be able to thank you enough for bringing her back to me."

Will looked to Sarah, tears in his eyes.

"We're family," she told him. "There's so much more to that than blood. You are a part of the family I choose to have in my life. If it weren't for you and everybody else down there that day, I wouldn't be here to remind you of that right now."

"You're like a little sister to me, Sarah," Will finally whispered. "And I let you get hurt."

"No Will, you didn't."

His eyes showed his shock at the forcefulness of her words.

"You're like a big brother to me," she said just as quietly as he had. "You're never going to be able to protect all of us from what's out there all the time, Will. What you can do is help us when we're in trouble, or when we're hurt. You can be there to help us pick up the pieces on the other side of whatever it is that comes our way. And that's what you're going to do for me now, just like you always have."

He nodded, then very slowly rose out of his seat. To Dr Charles, he said, "Okay. Let's talk."

And once again, the hospital's most talked about couple found themselves completely alone. They shared a look, but neither moved.

Now was not the time to start what everyone had assumed was already happening.

They still had a long road ahead of them.


	7. Seven

**Seven**

A week later, Sarah was finally allowed out of bed. In fact, her walking around and around the ward in circles had been mandated by Dr Latham. She'd had her surgery, and now she needed to start the rehab process so she could get back to her normal day-to-day life.

Needless to say, she was bored out of her brain. So, the first chance she got, she found herself escaping the ICU and heading down toward the ED.

"You know, I'm really starting to regret bringing you actual clothes."

He was standing there waiting for her the moment the elevator doors opened.

"I take it Nurse Dina noticed she had an escapee?" she asked him jokingly, allowing him to grasp her elbow and help her the rest of the way.

Between Connor and her IV pole, she was a whole lot steadier on her feet.

He was right about the clothes thing. She'd been going nuts up in ICU, and everyone knew it - she was only there because of her heart surgery, after all. Once she proved she was strong enough to walk she would be transferred into one of the specialist cardiac wards. But for now, she just wasn't feeling like herself. It was Maggie who had suggested he brought her some actual pyjamas from home. It was a little thing that had made her feel slightly more human.

He helped her into a desk chair at the workstation on the very end of the football before he spoke again. Crouching down in front of her, he said, "You are supposed to be resting."

"No," she disagreed with him instantly, "I am supposed to be walking. Dr Latham said I had to get back up on my feet. So I am back up on my feet."

He sighed at her. There was no point arguing when she was like this. But he was going to try anyway.

"You really shouldn't be down here, Sarah."

"I am bored out of my brain, Connor. I needed to get out of that place."

Here we go. It was the same argument they'd been having every day since she had started to feel more like herself again.

"Two out of three patients develop delirium just from being up in the ICU."

"I know this."

"It's such a high-stress environment."

"I am aware."

"Even for the sickest people."

"It's unfortunate, but it's necessary."

"They've called for three psych consults today alone."

"That does not surprise me."

"I don't want to be one of those statistics."

He held her hands close to his tightly and said to her gently, "You are not a statistic."

They didn't have a chance to continue their conversation. He'd caught a trauma case.

"Rhodes, you're up!" Maggie didn't even look over. She did do a double take, however, five minutes later when she saw the IV pole out of the corner of her eye. "Reese, what are you doing down here?"

"Oh, me?" Sarah hadn't realised anyone had even noticed her. "I escaped the ICU."

* * *

Sarah spent the next half hour sitting in that same chair, casually observing her surroundings - and sneakily checking charts on her patients upstairs. If Dr Charles were to catch her, he would put a stop to it. But her friends down here in the ED couldn't care less - they were just happy to see her up and around.

She'd found it fascinating, having the opportunity to observe them as an outsider for the very first time. Before, she had been a bumbling med student - in the middle of the chaos, and no idea what to do with it. Then, having survived the drama and somehow managing to still land on her feet, she was a resident - she understood what to do and how to navigate this place. But right now, she was entirely on the outside looking in.

She noticed how Will and Nat worked together seamlessly, even when they didn't agree on a diagnosis, or a result, or a treatment plan. How April and Ethan did everything they could to make sure their patient would walk out of here happy and back on their way to being healthy, even though they weren't on speaking terms right now. The way Maggie knew exactly where to send an incoming patient, or a doctor looking for their next case, all without even looking up, and sometimes even when she was on the phone being notified of their next ambulance.

These were all things she had seen before, of course. But never all at once.

The one new thing she couldn't help but notice was Connor. Who, every time he had a moment to breathe on a trauma case, managed to look up and know exactly where she was, despite her idle wandering. Who called the shots so calmly and confidently, despite being faced with some of the worst injuries you could possibly imagine. And who, right this moment, stood half a step behind her as she found herself frozen in front of the very same treatment bay she had idly walked into that fateful day.

It was a long time - several minutes, by her best guess, before he finally spoke. "Are you okay?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words were coming out. She tried to pick up a foot, to take just a single step and leave this place, but she couldn't make herself do it. She felt the tears running down her face, but she didn't know why.

And then, without any warning, her legs gave out.

She had expected to fall, hard and fast, right to the floor - but she found herself encased just as suddenly in a warm, strong embrace.

"I've got you," he whispered into her hair, pulling her close and gently sitting them both securely on the floor. "It's okay. I've got you."

Despite being in the most public of places - literally, the hallway in the middle of the ED, glass walls and all - she found herself falling apart.

"I've got you," he whispered over and over again.

After what felt like hours, she realised no one had interrupted them. No one had stopped and stared. And someone - likely a very overprotective charge nurse - had parked an empty gurney barely a foot behind their backs. It was easily seen over and through, but apparently it had been enough of a screen for her to melt down in relative private.

She took several deep, calming breaths, then found herself wrapping her arms around his.

"I've got you," he whispered one last time. "It's you and me."


	8. Eight

**Eight**

The day she was discharged should have been the easiest day yet. Her last round of tests had come back normal, she was finally allowed to eat and drink more or less whatever she wanted again (within reason), and her surgical sites were healing exactly as they should. Even the giant bag of medication she had been presented with didn't phase her.

It wasn't until she was being wheeled out the front door that she realised what had her so on edge - there he was, standing beside his blue porsche, staring out onto the city street and looking every bit the Greek God he was often compared to by the nursing staff.

"I have a delivery for you, Dr Rhodes," a very happy Maggie Lockwood announced, parking her wheelchair right beside the car. It just wouldn't be enough for an orderly to shuttle her out of the hospital, Maggie had declared. Apparently, it took a charge nurse and at least three ED doctors to see one discharged patient out of the hospital.

When he finally turned to face them, their eyes locked. Without saying a word, he'd managed to both calm her nerves and make them one hundred times worse than they had been before. Mirrored in his eyes was her same anticipation, her happiness - and her utter terror. Despite their friends encouragement, and their help in getting both Sarah and her belongings into the very fancy sports car, they found themselves doing everything they could to avoid actually talking to each other.

But once Sarah was strapped in and everything was loaded, he had no other excuses. He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a thank you to Maggie, Ethan, Nat and Will, took a deep breath, then finally stepped into the car.

"Are they okay?" Ethan asked the others as they watched the sports car slowly drive away.

Maggie gave Nat a small smile. "It's new territory, that's all."

"'New territory'?" Nat scoffed. "Maggie, they're married. It's hardly -"

"- Trust me," Will said quietly, wrapping an arm around Nat's shoulders and gently steering her back toward the ED, where their real jobs were waiting. "It's different now."

"And when did you become such a relationship guru?" Maggie asked him sarcastically.

* * *

It was true, of course. For Connor and Sarah, things really were different now. There was no getting around it.

They were alone - truly alone - for the very first time since everything had happened. The things they had said, the emotions they had suddenly realised were there ... it changed everything.

Though they were side by side in the car, they were in total silence, without even the radio to break the uncertain tension. But when they hit cross-town traffic, it was obvious they'd be sitting here for far longer than either had expected.

"So, um ..." Connor paused to clear his throat. "They're doing maintenance work through here. Been going on for weeks now, really messing with the traffic."

"Oh," Sarah answered quietly. "Uh, yeah. Annoying, but a necessary evil I suppose."

And now they were back to awkward silence.

"Look, Connor -" she said, at the same time he was saying, "Sarah, I -"

Both cut themselves off, finding themselves looking - really looking - at each other for the very first time. They sat there so long that time seemed to fade away. It wasn't until the car behind them aggressively blew his horn at them that they realised they had both been staring.

Doing his best to ignore his ears, which he knew were burning red, he turned his attention back to the road and did his best to concentrate on driving.

Beside him, she opened her mouth to speak, but one sideways glance at the man in the driver's seat kept her silent. He was staring so intently at the road he was practically screaming not to talk to him.

Truth be told, neither were really ready for this conversation. Unfortunately for both of them, it had to happen. And it had to happen now.

What felt like a millennia later, as they pulled into the basement carpark of their building, she finally broke the silence.

"I want to talk about it."

They both knew she wasn't referring to her recent ordeal. Those few words were enough, however. The conversation had begun.

"Not now," he answered her carefully as he helped her out of the car.

Her response, though dotted with pauses and winces of pain, was swift. "If not now, then when?"

He sighed, trying his hardest not to cooperate. They slowly made their way over to the elevator, him supporting her with one hand and carrying her hospital bag with the other.

"We have to have this conversation sooner or later, Connor. You and I both know that."

The fact that they were now trapped in a metal elevator was not lost on him. Had this been any other situation, he would have fully expected the elevator to stop, leaving them trapped together for hours on end with no choice but to have this conversation while their friends at Fire worked tirelessly to rescue them.

It was the kind of thing that tended to happen in their lives.

But apparently, not today. The ride in the elevator was awkward as hell, but there were no unexpected mechanical issues. The doors opened on the fifteenth floor, just as they did any other day. And then, they both found themselves staring at the door to the apartment.

The irony here is that it wasn't his or hers, it was theirs. Back when they'd first struck the deal just over a year ago, she'd been living in a tiny little shoebox and he had a huge three bedroom place in a high rise on the other side of town. They were already married - it just made sense. After a short argument over who would retain the master bedroom with the massive ensuite (which, of course, she won), they'd moved her into the surprisingly roomy second bedroom. It had been a very easy amalgamation of lives into this slightly strange arrangement - but even moving her things had turned out to be surprisingly simple. There was plenty of room in her bedroom for her little two seater sofa to sit at the end of her bed. Her scrappy little desk had joined his impressive mahogany antique over in the relatively small office space just off the main living area. Even things like boring kitchen supplies and cutlery - at first, they'd gingerly joined his inside the overhead cupboards, but now everything was well and truly intermingled. These days, it didn't matter to them whose was whose - plates, cups, towels. This was their home. These things were theirs.

Before that day in the emergency department, his and hers hadn't mattered. What they both seemed to realise, staring at the innocent silver _15A_ on the door to the apartment, was that somewhere along the way, the line had been blurred.

There was no his and hers. There was just theirs. And today, the concept of _theirs_ was different.

The words slipped out in a whisper. Words he was sure he hadn't meant to say. "... We need to have this conversation."

"We do," she answered just as quietly.

"Today."

"Uh-huh."

The more they stared, the more that damned door stared back at them.

* * *

Inside the apartment, Sarah couldn't help but notice he had gone out of his way to leave her alone. The moment she was settled on her little sofa at the end of her bed, he was gone. First, he'd insisted on emptying her bags and putting everything away. Then it was laundry that just had to be done right this very second. And then - oh look, lunchtime! _Let me make you food_ , he'd said. _You have to eat to keep up your strength. Hospital food sucks - a salad wrap will make you feel so much better._

By the time he walked into her bedroom with said food and a glass of apple juice, it was too late for him to realise that he had no choice now. In his effort to procrastinate, he'd manage to do every possible job (and household chore) in record time.

"My favourite," she said with a smile, gratefully accepting the glass of juice. She'd relocated herself to sit up on her bed, with a mountain of pillows behind her supporting her back.

And that was when he paused.

"I need to -"

"- Connor, sit," she said firmly, pointing to the end of the bed.

He dutifully sat, fidgeting all the while. He couldn't seem to decide what to do with his hands, and one of his legs was jumping.

She thought about it for a moment, then said very conversationally, "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you nervous."

That got his attention. He stopped, then sheepishly turned to face her. "Am I that obvious?"

"Little bit," she chuckled, then immediately groaned. "Ooh, laughing is pain, laughing is pain."

He made a move, as though he were about to rush forward and be a doctor, but he pulled himself back. They sat there, staring awkwardly at each other, until finally the lure of food was just too much for her. Without breaking eye contact, she picked up one half of the wrap and took a bite. Her appreciative groan made him break out into a smile.

"Good?"

" _Definitely_ better than hospital food!" she grinned.

"Look," he said after a long moment of silence, in which she continued eating. "I, uh ..."

When he paused, it occurred to her that she should probably step in and speak. She was tempted to say something, if only to save him from his obvious discomfort, but instead she decided she'd let him flounder. It sounded cruel, but it wasn't - actually, from where she was sitting, it was quite funny.

"So ... uh ..."

This time, he stopped intentionally. With his head tilted to the side, he raised a single eyebrow. "You're screwing with me."

She shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah. Not disputing that."

"Who would've thought," he mused. "Sweet, innocent Sarah Reese is intentionally messing with me."

She had to stop herself from laughing. "To be fair, you should've known what you were getting yourself into when you married me."

And there it was, right out in the open. It turned out, all they'd needed was for one of them to say the words. Once it was said, the conversation flowed much easier than either of them would have ever expected.

"... I almost lost you."

His words were a whisper, barely loud enough for her to hear. But there was no denying what he'd said. There was nothing she could say to make this better, so she just took his hand and squeezed it tight. He, in turn, found himself staring at their joined hands in pure wonder.

Still staring at his hands, he continued, "It took me almost losing you to admit to myself that I feel something. Something more than I should."

"What do you mean, 'more than you should'?"

He slowly raised his eyes from their joined hands to meet hers. There was no judgement in her face, instead an inquisitive expression, mixed with her ever-present kindness. It was so normal that it threw him for a second.

"It was supposed to be an arrangement," he said quietly. And then, he said the words he swore he'd never admit to anyone, especially her. "I wasn't supposed to feel ... things."

"'Things'?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

With his own eyebrow raised, he quipped, "You're going to make me say it, aren't you."

"Well, you did announce it to half the ICU - and my mother," she countered. "It's only fair you tell me, too. When I'm awake, this time."

Connor took a deep breath and exhaled with a nervous chuckle. "Sarah Reese, you are going to be the death of me."

For the first time, she found herself entirely unafraid. She grinned at him, and found herself pulling his hand toward her - which, in turn, sent him hurtling forward. He caught himself just in the nick of time, planting his hands firmly on the pillows either side of her just before he landed square on top of her.

His face was barely an inch from hers. They stared at each other for longer than either of them would care to admit, their eyes darting from each others' to their lips and back again.

Neither knew how long they stared. Finally, Sarah found her whispering, "Words are overrated."

And then she leaned forward just enough to close the gap between them. As a first kiss, it was flawless - pretty something. For the very first time when it came to each other, they were both entirely fearless.

"Well," he quipped when they finally came back up for air. "That's one way to have a conversation."

"I think it's my preferred way to have a conversation," she quipped in return with a grin.

"Mmm," he said in response, a hand tracing the edge of her cheek. "I'll second that."


End file.
